A Whump in the Life Of,,,
by Deana
Summary: A collection of angsty snippets involving our favorite SGA characters!
1. Voices in the Night

Voices in the Night  
A Stargate: Atlantis snippet  
By Deana Lisi

Tag for the first season episode, 'Poisoning the Well'.

A HUGE 'thank you' to my wonderful friend Karri, who dragged me nearly kicking and screaming into the SGA fandom! ;) You're the best! ;)

Here begins my collection of SGA snippets! ;)

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Carson Beckett was exhausted. So tired, that coffee wasn't doing a thing except make him jittery.

"You're supposed to eat that, not stare at it."

Blinking, Carson looked up to see John Sheppard standing beside him. He was holding a lunch tray, and sat across from the doctor. The Major picked up his turkey sandwich and took a big bite before frowning at Carson. "You okay?" he asked, talking with his mouth full.

Carson blinked again, his eyes trying to close by themselves. "Aye."

"Liar," John said. His voice was distorted by the food. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I haven't," Carson answered.

John stopped chewing. "Why? _That_ can't be healthy."

Carson gave him a lopsided smile, before sighing. "They won't _let_ me sleep."

"Who?"

"The…voices."

John choked on his lunch. "_Voices_?! I think you need to see a doc, doc!"

Carson shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. "No no…I mean, the…the Hoffans..."

John hesitated. "Oh." He put down his sandwich and grabbed his tray, leaving his chair to sit beside Carson instead. "That was _not_ your fault," he said. "You need to accept that. You can't live with guilt over something that you had no control over."

Carson sighed, eyes closed and head hanging down. "That drug was supposed ta help them…but instead, I had ta listen ta them die…"

John put a hand on his friend's shoulder, knowing the one voice that Carson could hear the loudest.

"Perna dinna deserve to die," Carson whispered. "None o'them did…"

John was silent, listening.

"I wish I'd never gone there," Carson said, sounding sad and angry at the same time. He opened his eyes and shook his head. "What I would give ta turn back time!"

John quirked a smile. "Who knows, doc, with the crazy stuff that goes on in this galaxy, I wouldn't be surprised if a time machine is the next thing we find!"

Carson said nothing, his expression one of devastation.

John sighed. "Did you try to convince the Hoffans to do more tests on the drug?"

Carson nodded.

"Did you tell them that you needed to autopsy that volunteer before clearing the drug as the cause of his death?"

Carson nodded again.

"Did you tell them not to test it on people until the drug was proven safe?"

Carson nodded.

"Did they listen to you?"

Carson shook his head.

"There you go," John said, squeezing the shoulder under his hand. "It was _their_ fault that they didn't listen. You did everything right. There was nothing else you could've done! You did _not_ kill those people; they killed _themselves_!"

Carson said nothing, but John could see his tired mind working…or trying to, at least.

"Tell me you can see that, Carson. You're too good a man to suffer like this."

Carson closed his eyes for a minute, before reopening them and finally looking at John. The mental anguish reflected in the tear-filled eyes was agony to witness, but John thought he could see a hint of relief.

"Yer right," the doctor whispered. "I know yer right, but it still hurts. I'm a doctor, I'm supposed ta heal, not kill…"

John nodded, sliding his arm around the trembling shoulders. "It'll be all right, doc. Think of the people that the drug _did_ work for; the Wraith can't touch 'em now!"

Carson smiled slightly.

"That's better," John said. He reached for his sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth, before picking up Carson's tray in one hand and forcing the doctor up with the other. "Coff omm," he said, trying to talk around the sandwich. "Ou nee seef."

Carson blinked, his tired mind unable to decipher the words.

John handed the doc his tray and took the sandwich out of his mouth. "I said 'come on, you need sleep'. Take your lunch to your quarters, and _sleep_."

Carson sighed again, but nodded. Truth was, he knew if he didn't get some serious rest, he'd probably end up a patient in his own infirmary.

John walked with him to the door, where Carson paused. He looked down the right corridor, and then the left, before frowning.

It took a second for John to realize what the problem was. He tried not to laugh, knowing that Carson's exhaustion was the reason for his confusion. "This way, doc," he said, steering his half-asleep friend to the right.

The doctor submitted, and after John finished inhaling his sandwich, he took Carson's tray lest the half-asleep man drop it along the way. It didn't take long to reach the doctor's quarters, and they entered. John brought him over to the bed. "Sit."

Carson obeyed, his eyes more closed than open.

"Eat," John said next, shoving the chicken sandwich in Carson's hands.

The doctor was fading fast, and just held it for a minute before figuring out what he was supposed to do with it. He took a bite and chewed sluggishly. It took a while for him to finish the sandwich, and John wondered more than once if he would drop it or fall asleep before he finished.

Finally, the food was gone, and Carson's eyes closed fully, his body suddenly tilting towards the bed. His head hit the pillow before John could even blink.

John was slightly taken by surprise, and reached out to feel the doctor's pulse, making sure that he was all right. The beat was slow, but steady.

John stood and picked up Carson's legs, placing them on the bed. He hunted around the room for a blanket, and finding one in the closet, draped it over the doctor before turning and heading for the door. Just as he reached it, he heard a voice.

"John?"

Sheppard turned, his eyebrows raised. Carson usually called him 'Major'. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," the sleepy voice said.

"Anytime, doc. Sleep well," John replied. He stepped out the door, and it softly closed behind him.

THE END  
;)


	2. John's No Good, Very Bad Day

John's No Good, Very Bad Day  
A Stargate: Atlantis snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA characters (bummer!) or the original 'No Good, Very Bad Day' book, lol.

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"Oh no…not _them_ again…!"

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was having a bad day. A _very_ bad day. An extremely _rotten_ day…and it had just gotten much worse.

"Stupid bugs! Rodney! Teyla! Ronon! Carson!"

No familiar voice answered him; instead, he had to listen to a chattering sound that chilled every drop of blood in his body.

Iratus bugs; a lot of them…and he'd nearly dropped in for dinner. Literally.

With a growl, John tried to pull himself up the ravine, slowly. It was too steep though, and he had to stop to avoid losing his grip. "HELP!" he shouted, wondering how on earth everyone had gotten separated.

Thinking back to this latest mission, John found himself wishing that they'd never stepped foot on this planet; everything had gone wrong, and he was going to give Rodney an earful, if—_when_—he got out of this.

Sighing, John was just about to try pulling himself up again when a sudden voice startled him so much that he almost lost his grip.

"Colonel Sheppard!"

"Carson!" John exclaimed. "Stop right there! Do you hear me? DON'T MOVE!"

The sound of walking through brush suddenly stopped. "Where are ya?" Carson asked, nervously.

"Where are _you_," John shot back. "Don't come any closer! Just move the bushes, or something."

Suddenly, Carson's head appeared peeking through the middle of an evergreen. "Lad!" Carson exclaimed. "What're ya doin' down there?"

"Oh, just hanging around," John said, sarcastically.

Carson let go of the bush and started to come around it.

"NO!" John yelled. "STOP!"

Carson obeyed, with a little startled sound that sounded something like, "Erk!"

"There's something on the ground," John explained, his arms straining to continue their hold. "Something trip-worthy. How do you think I got down here?"

"I was afraid ta ask," said Carson. He dropped down to one knee, searching for the offensive object. "Oh," he said, softly.

"Oh?" John echoed. "What, 'oh'?"

"The thing that tripped ya…well…it's a body."

"A body?! A native to this planet?"

"I suppose…been dead a long time, lad. Jus' bones left."

"Any idea what killed him?"

Carson stood up and stepped over the body, walking closer to John. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly his gaze shifted and his eyes widened.

John knew what the doctor was looking at.

Carson was stunned, forgetting for a second that John's arms had to be practically falling out of their sockets. "I think I know what killed 'em."

"Well, that's great, doc, can you get me outta here before I become dinner just like him?!"

"Aye, sorry…" Carson crouched down in front of the Colonel, peering over the side. John was desperately clinging to brush, rocks, whatever he could get his hands on. The ravine was steep, and Carson wasn't sure if he would be able to do this by himself.

"Do you have any rope?" John asked, his voice sounding strained.

Carson dropped the pack off his back, and quickly looked through it. With a smile, he held up what he found. "Ya want me ta tie it around a tree and give ya the end ta climb up?"

John shook his head. "No. My arms feel like lead, I won't be able to pull myself up it. You're gonna have to tie it around a tree, and tie it around yourself, then reach down here and pull me up."

Carson blinked, his face paling. "Oh."

"Hurry up!"

Carson jumped to his feet and ran to the tree, quickly wrapping the rope around it a few times and tying a knot that he hoped was correct from his boy scout days. Yanking on the rope a couple times, he saw that the knot held, and he tied the rope around himself and went back to the edge.

John was sweating with the effort required to continue hanging on. He was never so glad to see another person's hands as he was when Carson suddenly grabbed his arms.

"Come on!" said the doctor, reaching down as far as he could.

John tried to lift himself up as Carson pulled, and it seemed to be working…until Carson slipped.

With a cry of fear that the civilian doctor couldn't hold back, he fell down the ravine…and John lost his grip.

Carson's exclamation was abruptly cut off when the breath was knocked out of him…but not from any impact; the rope that he'd tied around himself abruptly stopped his fall, and as he scrambled to grab John again, he found that he didn't have to; the Colonel had somehow managed to grab the rope around Carson's middle, and deliberately trapped his hand in between the rope and the doctor's jacket. But now, they were _both_ dangling, with no obvious way of getting back up.

"I don't _believe_ this!" John exclaimed. "Why did you leave the rope so long?"

"Huh?" Carson asked, staring frightfully at the Iratus bugs, who had finally noticed the commotion.

"After you tied it to the tree, you should've walked back to the edge _before_ tying it around yourself…that way, you could've made it short enough to reach me without being able to fall!"

"I'm no professional at this survival stuff like you are!" said Carson. "Yer lucky I found ya before _he_ did!"

"He?" Turning his head, John saw an Iratus bug climbing up the ravine. Trying to grab his gun with his left hand—since his right one was trapped—he found that he could barely lift it from the pain in his arm caused by holding on for so long. Wincing, he aimed it at the creature and fired.

"I thought shooting 'em can't kill 'em!" Carson said, even as the bug rolled back to the bottom.

"It doesn't," said John. "But it'll knock them down!"

Carson sighed, unable to comprehend that they were dangling over a ravine full of blood-sucking monsters. "What d'we do now?"

Looking at each other for a second, they both yelled at the same time, "_Help!_"

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Nearly fifteen minutes later, after shooting at three more bugs and kicking a fourth, they heard a familiar sound that usually annoyed them…every other time except right then.

"Well, _that's_ something you don't see every day. Wish I had a camera with me!"

"RODNEY! Why you—"

"Get us outta here, Rodney!"

The scientist stepped back, surprised at the vehemence and desperation in their voices.

Ronon chuckled. "Funny mess you two got yourselves into."

"You won't think it's funny when you see what's beneath us," John told him.

Ronon and Telya quickly stepped forward.

"Wait!" Carson exclaimed. "Don't trip over the body!"

"Body?!" Rodney exclaimed, stepping back even further.

Ronon shook his head and stepped over the pile of bones, walking to the edge. When he saw what inhabited the ravine, his smile disappeared. "Whoa."

Teyla walked forward, her eyes showing surprise. "Iratus bugs."

Rodney, having avoided the body and followed them, gasped and backed up again, pulling up his jacket collar.

Ronon suddenly pulled out his gun and fired it, knocking a bug off the side of the cliff, before reaching down and wisely grabbing Sheppard first.

John winced when his fingers were pulled free from between the confines of the rope and Carson. A few seconds later, he was sitting on land, and he closed his eyes, plopping down to lie on his back.

"Are you all right?" Teyla asked.

Sheppard smiled lopsidedly. "I am _now_."

Carson, still dangling by the rope painfully tied around his stomach, watched as three Iratus bugs started up the ravine. "Er…" he said, trying to get Ronon's attention.

The huge man grabbed Carson by the back of his jacket and hauled him back above ground, sitting him on the grass.

Carson fought with the rope, eager to get it off himself. It suddenly fell slack, and he realized that Ronon had cut it with his knife. "Thank ya, lad," he said, gratefully.

Ronon smiled.

"_Incoming!_" Rodney suddenly exclaimed, pointing down the cliff.

Ronon shot at the bugs, and reached down to haul Sheppard to his feet. "I think we should be leaving."

John nodded. "Let's get outta here."

The trip back to the Stargate was quick, and all five of them sighed with relief when they finally stepped through.

Dr. Weir stood waiting, as always, and her smile turned to a frown at the expression on their faces. "No good?"

"You _could_ say that," said John.

"Elizabeth!" said Rodney, excitedly. "You should've seen them both hanging like slabs of beef—mfph?!"

Whatever else the scientist was about to say was cut off when John slapped his hand across Rodney's mouth, while Carson assisted in dragging him out of the room.

Dr. Weir watched as they left in a hurry. "What was _that_ all about?"

"Bugs," was all Ronon said, as he left.

Now even more confused, Elizabeth could do nothing but look up at the ceiling, and plead for mercy.

THE END  
;)


	3. A Galaxy Far, Far Away

**In a Galaxy Far, Far Away…  
**A Stargate Atlantis story  
By Deana Lisi

Tag for episode 1: 'Rising'

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_"We're in another galaxy, how much more 'out' can you get?!"_

Even as he said those words to Rodney, Carson could barely believe them himself.

_We're in another galaxy_…_I'm in another galaxy, living in a fabled city, no less!_ he thought. _If me mum could see me now_…_she'd probably have a heart attack._

Standing at the rail outside the conference room, Carson stared at the Stargate, having a very hard time accepting the situation. He'd wanted to come; it'd been an easy decision to leave Antarctica. He just couldn't believe that he was actually here, and now that he was, he wasn't sure if he'd made the right choice.

It was a little…scary.

"Carson?" he suddenly heard. Startled, he found Dr. Weir standing beside him. She smiled, though her eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Carson could only imagine the expression that had been on his face. "We're in another galaxy!" he blurted, flustered.

Her smiled widened. "Indeed we are." She looked over at the Stargate, with a sigh. "Isn't it amazing?"

Carson nodded, a little shakily. "Aye," he agreed. He sighed himself, feeling foolish at his behavior. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just…just…"

"Overwhelmed?" Elizabeth said. "Perfectly understandable."

"Who wouldn't be?" they suddenly heard, as John Sheppard joined them. He followed their line of sight. "That's quite a toy. Gonna be fun playing with it." He looked at Carson, waiting for the doctor to meet his gaze.

Carson deliberately didn't, still feeling guilty over the drone incident.

"Hey," said John, whacking his arm. "Dr. Weir here says that I can build a team to go off-world with me to do some exploring. I'm sure we'll need a doctor sometimes. Whatcha say?"

At that, Carson looked at him, all guilt forgotten. "Off-world? Me?"

"Yup," said John.

Carson swallowed, his eyes round as saucers. "But…but tha' would mean I'd hafta go through…it."

"It?" John said, trying not to laugh.

Carson looked at the object of their discussion, gesturing towards it. "The Gate."

"True," said John. "You would."

Carson shook his head nervously. "I don' think so, Major…I really don' think I like the thing."

John feigned hurt. "Why not?"

"This isn' some sci-fi TV show!" Carson said. "I'm jus' a doctor…I'm no' military."

John smiled and slapped his shoulder. "You'll change your mind, doc. You'll see. Welcome to the team."

As the Major walked away, Carson gulped.

THE END  
LOL


	4. Remorse

**Remorse**  
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson, Teyla, or anyone else on SGA

Tag for the episode, 'The Gift'.

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"Dr. Beckett?"

Carson looked up from his desk, finding Teyla standing in the doorway. She held a small pack in one hand. "Hello, Teyla. What can I do fer ya, love?" he asked, standing.

Walking into the room, she shook her head. "Please sit."

Puzzled, Carson obeyed. "Can I help ya with somethin'?" he asked, wondering why she looked so unhappy.

She reached for the chair in front of his desk and brought it around beside him. "I came to offer assistance to _you_," she said.

"With what?" he asked, confused.

Wordlessly, she reached towards his face and gently turned it to his right. "Does it hurt very much?" she asked, studying the bruised and split side of his cheekbone. It was very close to both his temple and his eye, making her inwardly cringe at the potential danger of it's location.

Carson finally understood. "Oh lass, I don' blame ya fer that."

Teyla merely sighed and gently removed the butterfly bandage stuck to his face.

Carson didn't pull away, allowing her to do whatever was required to ease her obvious guilt.

Teyla opened the pack on her lap and removed a small bottle of alcohol. A sudden half-smile graced her lips. "This may sting."

Carson returned the smile, remembering the hundreds of times he'd said those words to his patients. It didn't sting very much, since the cut was now some hours old.

"As I lay there," Teyla suddenly said. "I didn't merely see myself on the Wraith ship. It was as if I…_was_ a Wraith." She paused, trying to make sense of the experience. Hesitating on her next words, she picked up a tube of antibiotic ointment. "When I opened my eyes and saw you, I still felt as though I was a Wraith and you were my enemy. I struck out without thinking, or even recognizing you. For that, I am very sorry."

Carson smiled as she dabbed the ointment on his injury. "I know that ya weren't yerself. It was a risky experiment—"

"A risk that I chose to take," Teyla said. "But I never intended to hurt anyone…especially a person who could never deserve such abuse."

Carson smiled again. "Ya don' have ta apologize, Teyla. Especially since ya just did and I accepted it."

The Athosian woman smiled, as she gently placed a bandaid over the cut.

Carson lifted his hand and placed it over hers before she could pull away. "It feels better already," he said. "Thank you, love."

"It was my responsibility, since I caused it," Teyla told him. "But also, it was my honor; you care for each and every person in this entire city, even at risk to your own health. It was time for someone to care for _you_."

Her words touched Carson, and he smiled.

"Thank you for accepting my apology," Teyla continued. She laid her hands on his shoulders and tipped her head forward in the Athosian show of affection.

Carson's smile widened and he imitated the gesture, touching their foreheads together. He'd thought it to be a beautiful tradition, and was overjoyed to be one of the few humans allowed to experience it.

All too soon, Teyla's earpiece suddenly came to life, startling them both.

"Teyla?!" Rodney's familiar voice whined. "We're _waiting_ for you!"

Tapping her earpiece, Teyla replied, "I will be there in a moment, Rodney." She looked at Carson, and sighed with a smile. "I think I would not feel such remorse if I'd struck _him_."

Carson laughed at that.

With a chuckle, Teyla stood and returned the chair to its original position, before smiling at him again as she left the room.

Carson gave her a little wave and touched the bandaid on his cheek, blushing slightly as he turned back to his computer.

THE END  
;)


	5. Self Defense

**Self Defense**  
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi. NO SLASH  
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson, John, or anyone else on SGA.  
This snippet takes place in the 1st season.

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"Ya want me ta _what_?"

"Hit me."

Carson blinked.

John sighed. He reached over and took Carson's wrists, pulling the doctor's arms up in a 'put up your dukes' gesture. Then, he did the same. "Go ahead; hit me, and watch what I do."

Carson looked unsure. "But I'll hurt ya."

"No you won't."

"Of course I will!"

John sighed again and lowered his arms. "Doc, how am I supposed to teach you self defense if you don't cooperate?"

"I'm tryin' ta!" Carson protested, arms still up. "I jus' didn' know that it would be a…a…a contact sport."

John rolled his eyes. He put up his fists again. "Listen, doc, take a swing at me!"

"Why can't I jus' hit a dummy?" Carson asked. "I won' hurt _that_."

"You're not hitting a dummy because a dummy can't fight back!"

Carson frowned, nervously. "Yer gonna fight me back?"

"I'm gonna show you how to block a strike!" John said, exasperated.

Carson blinked. "Yer gonna block it? So I won' actually hit ya?"

John nodded. "Right. Now just—"

_Wham!_

Stars erupted before John's face and he suddenly found himself lying on the floor.

"Major!" Carson exclaimed, throwing himself to his knees. "I'm sorry! I thought ya said ya were gonna block it! Are ya all right? How many fingers d'ya see?"

John just looked at him for a second. "Enough to know that you can defend yourself just fine," he groaned. He sat up and gingerly moved his jaw around, relieved to find it unbroken.

"I'm so sorry," Carson said again, guiltily.

John waved his hand in a 'forget it' gesture, and started to get up.

Carson helped him, dismayed at the mark that he could already see forming on the side of John's face.

John blinked his eyes a few times before putting up his fists again. "Okay, now, don't swing at me until I _tell_ you to."

Carson sighed, but brought up his own fists.

"Okay," said John. "Now."

Carson swung, but as John started to block it, he suddenly ducked and backed up with a noise that sounded like, 'ack!'

"What? What?" said Carson, backing up himself. "What'd I do?!"

John, his arms covering his head, peeked out at him and straightened up. "You used your _left_ hand that time! Why?"

Carson blinked. "'Cause m'right one hurts, now. Yer face is as hard as a brick!"

John shook his head, ignoring the ache caused by Carson's surprisingly strong right cross. "I was ready to block a hit from your _right_, not your left!"

Carson made a contrite face. "Oh. Sorry."

"Forget it, let's try again. Use your _right_ hand, since it's your dominant one."

Carson nodded. "Okay."

"All right…now," said John.

Carson threw a punch with his right hand, and John effortlessly blocked it, sending Carson's arm flying off to the side.

"Wow," Carson said, rubbing his wrist. "Lad, ya did that so fast I barely saw it! Show me again?"

They did it a few more times, before Carson felt ready to try it himself.

"You sure you got it?" John asked.

"Aye," Carson said.

"All right," said John. "Here goes."

With that, he threw a punch.

Carson nervously raised his arm to block it, automatically taking a step back. However, he hadn't noticed that his shoe was untied, and that he was standing on the lace with the other foot. Off balance, he didn't fully raise his arm.

_Wham!_

John watched with shock as he knocked the doctor off his feet, where he crashed to the floor. "Carson!" he exclaimed, quickly kneeling. "Are you all right?"

The doctor made no sound, apparently unconscious.

"Oh _crap_," John said. He raised a hand to his earpiece, to call for a medical team, but hesitated. _How am I gonna explain this?_ "Carson? Hey doc, wake up," he said, shaking him.

A few seconds later, Carson groaned.

John sighed with relief. "Doc? You okay?"

Carson opened his eyes with a frown. "Wha' hit me?"

John made a face. "_I_ did. Sorry."

The doctor suddenly remembered what had happened, and to John's surprise, started laughing.

"Doc?" said John, wondering if he'd caused him brain damage.

"I h-hit ya by accident…" said Carson, laughing and talking at the same time as he tried to roll onto his back. "An' then ya accidentally hit _me_!"

John saw the humor in the situation, and chuckled.

Carson laughed for another second, before raising a hand to his head. "Owww," he said. He opened his eyes—the skin around the left one starting to swell—to see John cradling his jaw. "Lesson over?"

John nodded. "Yup. Hungry?"

Carson nodded back.

"Let's go get something to eat," said John, holding out a hand to help his friend up.

Carson took it and stood, wobbling his way towards the door. "As long as we stop for some painkillers first…"

THE END  
Was that as funny as I think it was? LOL


	6. The Date

The Date  
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson or Rodney.

This story is dedicated to my wonderful friend Angela. She wrote me a story for _my_ birthday, ('The Birthday Gift', story ID 3270776. Go read it!) so I wrote her a story for _hers_! Happy Birthday, my dear friend, I hope that you like this! Actually, I'm _sure_ you will… ;)

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Carson left his quarters nervously, smoothing his hair and constantly pulling on the end of his button-down shirt as he walked down the corridor.

Smiling to himself, he remembered the events that led to his heading for a certain lady's quarters for dinner, rather then the mess hall.

_"Dr. Beckett?" he heard._

_Opening his eyes, Carson realized that he'd dozed off at his desk. Again._

_One of his nurses, a pretty reddish-haired girl named Angela, set a mug of tea in front of him, blushing shyly._

_Carson smiled. He knew that Angela had a crush on him. "Thanks, lass."_

_"You need to get more sleep," Angela said._

_Carson chuckled. "As if that were possible." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "The way the past few days have been, I may fall asleep on m'way ta the mess hall."_

_"Um…" Angela said._

_Carson looked up at her. "Yes?"_

_"I made some lasagna," she said, pushing around a paperweight on the desk. "Would you…would you like to have some for dinner tonight? It would be better than the meatloaf the mess hall is serving."_

_Carson smiled. She was asking him to dinner! "That would be lovely, lass," he said. "What time should I be there?"_

_Her head snapped up, as if having doubted that he would accept. "Oh…uh…six?"_

_Carson nodded. "It's a date."_

At six o'clock exactly, Carson was standing outside her door, nervously fixing his hair again. Just as he raised his hand to knock, he heard a sudden voice.

"Carson!"

Startled badly, Carson thought he was about to have a heart attack when he turned to see Rodney approaching him.

"Been looking for you!" Rodney said. "They're serving meatloaf tonight!"

Carson quickly moved away from Angela's door. "Uh, yeah, right…I'll be there later, I was just called fer an emergency…"

"Emergency?" Rodney said. "What happened? In that case, why are you just standing here?" He frowned. Realization dawned on his face. "You're lying! I caught you in the middle of something that you're hiding! What is it? Huh?"

Carson sighed. There was no way he'd get away from Rodney unless he told the truth. "I have a date," he whispered.

"A date?!" Rodney yelled. "With who?!"

"Shhhh!" Carson said. "What's wrong with ya, ya daft bugger? Lemme go, yer makin' me late."

Rodney smiled. "Okay, fine, go ahead, Mr. Right!"

Carson rolled his eyes and walked away. He didn't have far to go, and realized that Rodney was watching him. He raised his hand to knock, before looking at Rodney and making a 'shoo' gesture.

Rodney chuckled and dashed down the hall.

Carson knew that the scientist was probably watching around the corner. He sighed, knowing that gossip would soon be flying.

Fixing his hair one more time and straightening his shirt, Carson knocked, and Angela opened the door.

She stood there shyly, wearing a mid-length purple dress. Smiling, she moved aside so he could enter.

Carson smiled back.

Angela had set up her table with the works; candles and wine. The lasagna sat in the middle, with salad and garlic bread.

The perfect Italian dinner.

They both sat, and Angela started to serve the food. Her blush seemed a permanent addition to her face.

Carson couldn't believe the wonderful aroma that wafted up from the lasagna. It'd been a long time since he'd had some.

Angela couldn't help but watch as he tasted it.

"Mmm," Carson said. "It's delicious! Lasagna is one o' me favorite dishes."

Angela looked surprised. "Really?"

"Aye," Carson said. "Raised in Scotland or not; me mum could make a mean lasagna."

Angela laughed.

The night passed quickly, faster than they thought as they talked and ate. They'd eventually migrated to the couch over tea and cake for dessert, and Carson wondered how long Angela had planned this. He was glad to have accepted.

"Carson?"

Carson blinked, aware that his mind had drifted for a second.

Angela smiled. "You zoned out for a minute there." She looked at her watch, her expression turning to one of surprise. "It's nearly midnight! I'm so sorry for keeping you up so late! I think it's time for bed for a certain tired doctor." She blushed and made a face, mortified at how that had sounded.

Carson smiled. "Don't apologize," he said. "I had a wonderful time."

Angela smiled back. "I did too."

They both stood and made their way to the door.

"We should definitely do this again," Carson said. "Soon."

Angela's smile widened. "I would love that." She blinked and looked down, at his lips, he realized, before looking back up at him.

Carson knew what she wanted…he wanted the same thing.

Touching her face, he leaned over and kissed her; a gentle, sweet kiss.

When they pulled away, Angela was noticeably shaky.

Carson smiled and ran his thumb down her cheek. "Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," she squeaked.

As he walked out the door and it closed behind him, Carson let out a breath. If he had known how much he would enjoy Angela's presence, he would've asked _her_ out before she had to ask _him_. Realization suddenly dawned on him. _She had ta ask me out! I was to daft ta do it myself!_

A sudden snore caught his attention and he blinked, wondering who could possibly snore so loud that it could be heard through walls. Frowning, he realized that he knew that snore, and followed it around the nearby corner. The sight he found made him stare in shock.

Rodney McKay, PhD, certified genius, was asleep sitting against the wall.

Carson started to kneel beside his friend, to wake him up and ask him what on Earth—or rather, Atlantis—he was doing, when he stopped. The answer was rather obvious, really.

Rodney was waiting for him to come out of Angela's quarters.

Carson covered his mouth, trying to prevent an audible laugh. He stood, ready to happily leave his friend there to wake up and wonder if Carson was still inside. But then he realized that someone would probably come down the hall, see Rodney on the floor, and call for medical assistance.

Carson really didn't want to be woken up, especially for a false alarm. Shaking his head, he knelt again. "Rodney? Wake up."

The scientist mumbled something unintelligible, shifting his position.

"Rodney."

"Ummm…sleepin'…"

"Rodney! I have a new ZPM fer ya."

At that, the scientist was instantly awake. "What? Where?!"

Carson shook his head. "Ya daft bugger! Why ya sleepin' in the hall?"

Rodney frowned, looking around himself. "I'm what…? OH!" Rodney looked at his watch. "Midnight! Long date! Tell me _all_ about it!"

Carson tried to look stern. "I don' think that's anyone's business but mine."

Rodney looked hurt. "What? But I'm your best friend!"

"Get up, will ya? Before someone comes along and thinks ya had another o' yer many accidents."

Rodney obeyed, following Carson as the doctor headed down the hall. "So tell, already!"

"I don' want ta be the subject o' gossip!"

"Not gossip! I just want to know, as your friend! What did you eat?"

Carson shot him an exasperated look. "She made lasagna."

"What?!" Rodney said. "And _I_ wasn't invited?!"

Carson rolled his eyes.

"So do you like her?"

Carson nodded. "Aye. We had a good time, talkin'."

"_Just_ talking?"

Carson stopped and looked at him. "What d'ya take me for? Of course 'just talkin'!"

"Sorry."

Carson glared at him for a second more, before continuing the walk to his quarters.

"Did you kiss her, at least?"

At that, Carson's annoyed look faded as he remembered. "Aye."

Rodney smiled, as they approached the doctor's door. It slid open, and Carson entered.

"Do you plan to see her again?" Rodney asked, from the doorway.

Carson turned to look at him. "Aye. I do."

Rodney's smile widened. He reached out and playfully punched his friend on the arm. "I'm happy for you. I hope it works out."

Carson was surprised to hear such a sensitive comment come from Rodney McKay, of all people. "Thanks," he said.

Rodney nodded. "'Night."

"G'night," Carson said.

Rodney left, and the door closed.

As Carson prepared for bed, he thought back to the evening that he'd just had, remembering Angela's smile, her laugh, her endearing blushes. He'd enjoyed it immensely.

The last thought that drifted through his mind as he fell asleep, was, _I can't wait ta see her tomorrow._

THE END  
Happy Birthday, Angela! Make sure you give Carson back to me when you're done with him, LOL! ;)


	7. Memories

Memories  
A Stargate: Atlantis story by Deana Lisi

Disclaimer: I don't own John or Carson.  
This is dedicated to my wonderful friend Karri, for her b-day today! ;) Today is also 'National Sticky Bun Day'! Isn't that cool? lol

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Colonel? Colonel?"

John Sheppard looked up from his table, to find Carson Beckett standing in front of him, holding a cup of coffee and a sticky bun.

"Ya in there, lad?"

John smiled, nodding. "Oh, yeah. 'Course."

"It didn't seem like it a moment ago," Carson said, sitting down across from him.

"Sorry," said John. "Thinking."

Carson watched him for a few seconds, before motioning to the Colonel's own plate. "Eat yer bun, before it gets cold."

John smiled slightly as he reached for it. "We wouldn't want that."

"No, indeed," said Carson, taking a bite out of his own. "Missing someone?" he asked.

John's eyebrows shot up. "How did you know?"

Carson took a sip from his mug. "I see the same look on m'own face in the mirror sometimes. A girl?"

John nodded, licking frosting off his lips. "Yeah."

"She musta been special."

John nodded again. "She was."

"What happened?" Carson asked.

"I took a bullet for her."

Carson almost choked on his bun. "Ya sure know how ta impress a lass!"

The remarked cracked a slight smile on John's face.

"All right, then," said Carson. "What happened _after_ that? Or before? How'd ya take the bullet, anyway?"

"She was a National Guardswoman that served under me. We were in Afghanistan…"

_John never forgot that day. Never forgot the instant when one of the enemy had aimed his gun at the person standing to his left. Without hesitation, he turned and ran towards her._

_"Karri! Get down!"_

_She'd looked up at his voice, but before she had a chance to obey, John had slammed into her and knocked her down himself._

_The bullet had hit him in the shoulder; if she'd been hit, it would've struck her head._

_He didn't remember hitting the dirt. He didn't remember the shooting continue around him, he didn't even remember being rescued and transferred to a military hospital. All he remembered was the female face above him, stroking his hair._

_"John! You'll be all right John, don't worry…"_

_She'd called him 'John', not 'Major'…_

"By the time I went back on duty, I found out that she'd been given new orders. I haven't seen her since."

Carson made a sympathetic face. "Ya loved her." He ate the last piece of his bun, rubbing his sticky fingers together.

John licked the frosting off his own. "Yeah," he sighed. "I did."

"Sad story, son," Carson said, wiggling his fingers like a cat with a piece of tape stuck to its paw. "Why don' ya try ta find her, and have her sent here?"

John shook his head. "I've thought of that, but I can't. I can only request Air Force personnel."

"Well then, Elizabeth should be able to make the request," Carson continued. "As the leader o'this expedition. It's worth a try."

John's eyes lit up. "Yeah, it is." He turned and rushed towards the door.

Carson watched him go, with a smile.

Suddenly, John took a detour and came back. "Carson? Thanks."

Carson's smile widened. "Anytime, lad."

John returned the smile and handed some napkins to the doctor, before rushing off.

Wiping his sticky hands clean, Carson chuckled.

THE END  
Happy birthday, Karri! ;)


	8. Fear of Failure

**Fear of Failure**  
A Stargate Atlantis snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson or Rodney. No slash.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rodney McKay strolled into the mess hall at approximately 5am. He wanted to get an early start deciphering some new ancient text that he'd found as part of a file in the Atlantis mainframe.

The breakfast servers were there, waiting for early stragglers to come in. There was no one in line that time of morning, as Rodney expected, and he put in his order for a heaping plate of pancakes and eggs. The tray was handed to him, but strangely, so was another.

Rodney frowned at the second tray, which contained French toast and orange juice. "What—" he started to ask.

Wordlessly, the girl pointed behind him.

Rodney turned around, spotting a person's head laid on a table near a window. The dark hair was in disarray, but the person wasn't tall enough to be John.

The French toast—with powdered sugar and extra syrup—provided him with the clue that he needed.

It was Carson.

Rodney nodded at the girl and took the tray, walking over to the table. He sat across from his sleeping friend, wondering why he was there so early—in his pajamas and robe, even. There was a nearly-empty cup of tea beside the doctor's head, and Rodney, ever a genius, stuck his finger in it to check the temperature.

It was freezing, telling Rodney that his friend had been here for a quite a while.

"Carson?" he said, wiping his finger with a napkin.

No answer.

Reaching out a hand, he poked the doctor's shoulder.

Carson's body gave a startled jump, and he slowly twisted his head to see who had interrupted his nap.

"Morning," said Rodney.

Carson's answer was a groan as he tried to straighten up.

"Not a healthy way to sleep," Rodney told him.

Now upright, Carson twisted his head and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the aches. "No," the doctor agreed. "Not at all."

Rodney watched him for a minute, seeing the bleary, exhausted look on Carson's face and the dark circles under his eyes. "You look like crap," he said, baiting him.

Carson said nothing.

"Your hair could win a messy-contest against Sheppard's."

Carson still didn't reply, but he lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, which only messed it up further.

Something was definitely bothering the doctor, and Rodney frowned. "So," he said. "How long have you been sleeping on a mess hall table?"

"Not long," Carson lied, raising the teacup.

"That's not what your tea told me."

Carson stopped before the cup reached his lips. "What?"

"It's freezing cold."

Carson looked in the cup, decided he didn't want to know how Rodney knew that, and placed it back down.

Rodney pushed the tray in front of him. "Try this instead."

Carson looked at the warm French toast, seeing that it was made exactly how he liked it. It smelled wonderful, but he just stared at it.

"Eat it," said Rodney, his mouth full of pancakes. "It'll make you feel better."

Carson didn't feel like eating, but he knew that Rodney was right. He picked up the fork and lifted a piece of the French toast to his mouth, chewing slowly.

Rodney watched, seeing the slight shakiness in his friend's hand. He frowned, growing more concerned. "What's wrong?"

Carson sighed as he ate. "I've been having nightmares."

Rodney knew it'd be easy to find out the problem. Carson wore his heart on his sleeve. "About what? The Wraith?"

Carson shrugged with one shoulder. "Sometimes."

Rodney gulped down half of his coffee. "Maybe you should talk to Heightmeyer."

Carson shook his head. "Pointless. I know what she'll say."

Rodney nodded. Of course Carson knew, he was a doctor, after all. "Well, then…talk to _me_."

Carson looked at him, stopping in mid-chew.

"Oh come on," said Rodney. "I'm not Mr. Insensitive _all_ the time." He swallowed some eggs. "You _are_ my friend."

Carson smiled at the scientist's unexpected admittance.

Rodney continued to eat, nonchalantly, though he secretly envied the other man's ease at discussing his emotions.

Carson returned to his food, looking like he felt a little better. When he was almost finished, he finally spoke again. "I keep havin' dreams about people that I care about, either…either…dyin'…or bein' captured, or…"

Rodney looked at him. "Or what?"

Carson sighed, picking up the glass of OJ and downing half of it. He put it down with a sigh. "In each dream, it's my fault."

"_Your_ fault? The reason the people die?"

Carson closed his eyes for a second, nodding with another sigh. "It's so realistic, too…I wake up thinkin' that it's reality, that it all really happened."

The look on his friend's face was so crestfallen, that Rodney remarked, "That's terrible."

Carson nodded, staring at the rest of his food, but making no move to touch it.

"Finish," said Rodney, prodding the plate. "Dr. McKay's orders."

Carson looked at him with a half-smile, before obeying.

They were silent for a minute, before Rodney said. "They're just dreams, you know. Not real. Fake. Your imagination."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I know that. They bring back bad memories though."

"Memories?"

Carson nodded again. "In the dreams, I see past incidents as if the results were different."

"What incidents?"

Carson ate his last bite, looking at Rodney. "Yer amazingly patient today."

Rodney smirked. "I try…once in a while."

Carson smiled back, before his face turned serious again. "The retrovirus," he whispered. "I see it turn Sheppard inta…inta what he became…but then I see it kill 'em." He picked up a napkin and started twisting it, nervously. "Then I see Hoff," he could barely even say the planet's name. "But I see _everyone_ on the planet die. Then I even see Teyla, when her mind was controlled by the Wraith…I see myself hit the button ta shock her outta it, but I see it stop her heart instead. I see you…" and he stopped.

"Me?" Rodney prodded, watching his friend, food forgotten.

Carson shook his head, seeming unable to continue. It was a moment before he spoke again. "In the worst dream, I see myself shoot at Elia, that young Wraith lass, but the bullet hits _you_ instead…" He gulped. "I try ta save yer life, I try everythin'! But ya die anyway…"

He was shaking again. Crap.

Rodney, ignoring his usual reluctance to comfort people, reached over and grabbed one of Carson's wrists. "Carson…geez…I'm alive. We're _all_ alive. _All_ of us."

Carson looked at him miserably, still twisting the napkin, his face blushing slightly at seeming such a fool.

Rodney tightened his hold. "All of the situations you just mentioned _were_ similar to past incidents, except for one thing."

"What?" Carson asked.

"You _succeeded_. You _didn't_ fail at any of them! Sheppard didn't die from the retrovirus, Teyla is fine, and you didn't shoot me! You have no reason to feel this way! Don't you understand?"

Carson nodded, trying to pull his arm back.

But Rodney held on. "Understand?" he asked again.

"Aye," Carson answered. He tried to tug his arm back again. "That hurts."

"Oh!" Rodney said, quickly letting go. "Sorry."

"S'okay," Carson said. He refrained from rubbing it. _That boy doesn't know his own strength!_

Rodney watched him for a minute. "I believe I've come up with a diagnosis."

Carson shot him an amused look. "Have ya, now?"

"Yes. You have a fear of failure."

Carson looked back down at his plate.

"We _all_ do, Carson," said Rodney. "Look at where we're living! We're in a different galaxy, for goodness sake, full of all kinds of dangerous things! We're on a planet that hardly anyone knows exists! Do you realize that we're practically living a sci-fi TV show?"

Carson smiled. "If me mum could see me now."

Rodney nodded. He raised his cup of coffee, only to find it empty. "More tea?" he asked.

Carson nodded.

Rodney took the trays and cups, bringing them back to the counter. The cooks were laying out cups of tea and coffee now that a few people were strolling in, and Rodney grabbed a couple of them.

Carson watched him, touched to see how much Rodney really did care. Too often, he had to deal with the scientist's whining, shouting, or self-centeredness. This was a very welcome change.

Rodney returned a minute later with the tea, coffee, and two more plates, one of which he placed in front of Carson. It contained a cut-in-half blueberry muffin, hot from the oven, slathered in butter and cinnamon-sugar. "Ohh," Carson said, the smell practically making his mouth water. "Thank you."

Rodney nodded, his mouth already full.

After the muffins were gone, Rodney asked, "Feel better?"

Carson nodded. "Aye. Sorry ta be a bother."

Rodney shook his head. "You're not a bother!" He was silent for a second. "I suppose _I_ should be saying that. _I'm_ usually the bother." He looked down at his coffee mug. "Probably the reason for some of your nightmares."

Carson wondered if he was dreaming _now_. He was getting more sincerity and feeling out of Rodney in one hour than he usually got in six months. He suddenly realized that his silence could be taken as agreement. "No, no! Ya aren't a bother. Friends help each other."

Rodney's eyes suddenly twinkled. "I'll remember you said that the next time I want you to try out a new Ancient device for me."

Carson almost choked on his tea. _I walked right inta that one. _"Well, maybe _then_ yer a wee bother."

Rodney chuckled, before his face turned serious again. "We used to talk all the time, remember? Before we came to Atlantis."

Carson nodded. "Aye. Before life became so busy."

Rodney nodded, just as his earpiece suddenly blipped.

"Why you late?" he heard an accented, disembodied voice say. "You say to be at lab at 6. I here at 6. Don't you own a watch?!"

Rodney looked at the time, shocked to find that it was 7. "Whoa, would you look at the time! I'll be there soon, Radek."

"You better," Radek said. He signed off, muttering in Czech.

"Sorry," Carson said. "I didn't know ya were supposed ta work early."

"It's okay," Rodney said.

A minute later, when Carson saw that his friend wasn't leaving, he said, "You can go. I'm okay now."

"You sure?" Rodney asked.

Carson nodded. "Aye, I gotta get ta work too."

"Okay." Rodney stood. "You can still come talk to me, you know," he said, forcing himself to look Carson in the eye. "I mean, everyone comes to you with their problems, including me. You need a friend to go to too," he said. "Maybe that's why you're having nightmares."

Carson nodded. "Yer probably right. I will." He smiled. "Thanks, Rodney, I feel much better. Yer a good friend."

Rodney shrugged one shoulder as if it was nothing. "All in a day's work." He started to walk away, before turning and giving a little wave as he went.

Carson couldn't help but smile as he waved back. Rodney never ceased to amaze him.

THE END  
;)


	9. Payback

**Payback**  
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson (boo hoo) or any other SGA character.

Tag to the episode, 'The Eye'.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson blinked his eyes, wondering how he'd suddenly ended up sitting in a chair in front of an ancient console in the Control Room. The last thing he remembered was getting smashed in the face with...something. Oh yeah, he remembered two people practically dragging him down a corridor, too. He blinked again, realizing that his sight was blurred. Rodney was to his left, he finally noticed, talking animatedly, as usual. He hardly understood a word.

But then, the voices stopped, and everyone looked relieved.

What seemed like both an eternity later and a mere second, Dr. Weir's face was suddenly in front of his own. "Carson?" she said, sounding worried.

Carson realized that she'd called him more than once. He tried to answer her, but "Huh?" was all that came out.

"Let's get you to the infirmary," she said, taking his arm.

He let her pull him up, but his legs didn't want to hold him.

"John!" Elizabeth exclaimed, when the doctor sagged.

Sheppard rushed over and took Carson's other side, while Rodney left his laptop and took over from Elizabeth.

"Come on, doc," said John. "Looks like you get to be the patient instead of the doctor this time."

Carson's only answer was a sniff from his bloody nose, which he regretted when it caused his poor abused face copious pain.

"I'm so sorry," they suddenly heard.

Rodney looked towards the voice, seeing Sora standing near Teyla. "_You_ did this?"

She nodded, looking contrite.

"Forget it," John told him. "Let's just get him out of here."

Rodney started walking again, and they helped the injured doctor out of the room.

"Hey Carson," said Rodney.

"Wha?" he said.

"You got beat up by a _girl_?"

"Shuddup."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The walk to the infirmary took quite a while. Carson's vision was blurred and skewed often, and his head and face throbbed like there was no tomorrow. He was gaining a little more lucidity though, and managed to remember what had happened.

They entered the door, to find the infirmary empty of people.

Realization dawned on Rodney's face. "Everyone evacuated! There's no doctors here!"

"No kidding," said John. They brought Carson over to a bed and gently laid him down.

"Crap!" said Rodney, looking at his arm, which had stopped bleeding a while ago. "Who's gonna take care of _my_ wound?"

"Rooooodney," John warned, rolling his eyes before looking at Carson. "Doc, tell us what to do for you."

Carson's eyes were closed, in relief at no longer being upright.

When he didn't answer, John shook his arm. "Doc! You better not be thinking of going to sleep..."

Rodney walked around the infirmary, looking for inspiration. The sight of a long, thin object caught his attention, and he grabbed it and dashed over to the bed.

John watched as Rodney fumbled with the tiny device, before apparently getting it working.

The scientist bent over and, with a grin that he couldn't hide, lifted one of Carson's eyelids, shining the dreaded penlight.

"Ack!" Carson exclaimed, covering his eyes. "Wha? Why'd ya... why... oooooh..."

Rodney, despite the obvious pain that he'd caused his friend, didn't look as contrite as he should have. "That's what _you_ would've done!" he said.

"Ooooooh..."

John shot a dark expression at Rodney. "Now is _not_ the time for revenge!"

"Sure it is!" Rodney countered. "We might not ever get this chance again!" He regretted the words as soon as he said them, or rather; he wished he hadn't said them _aloud_.

John shot his arm out in front of Rodney and pushed him back, before bending over Carson's groaning form. "Carson, we—or at least, _I_—want to help you. Is your nose broken? Do you think you have a concussion?"

Carson still had his hands covering his eyes. "Aye," he groaned.

"Which one?" John asked, patiently.

"Concussion," Carson answered.

"Rodney," said John, in his commando-voice. "Get some stuff to clean the blood off him. Oh, and a puke bucket too, just in case."

Rodney made a disgusted face, but wordlessly obeyed.

"Talk to me, Carson," said John. "Tell me what happened."

"Sora hit me with somethin'," he said, lowering his hands from his eyes, which remained closed. "I think I hit m'head on the floor."

"Should I check for a bump?" John asked.

Carson tried to nod, but winced instead.

John tried to be gentle, but Carson flinched when fingers found the egg on the back of his head. "Sorry, doc. Yeah, you got a pretty big one back there. Feels like it bled, too."

"What's he got?" Rodney asked, returning with the supplies.

John looked at him, making a puzzled face at the bandage that was crudely wrapped around the scientist's arm, _over_ his jacket. _Genius?_ he thought. _Yeah right. More like 'retard'._ "He's got an egg on his head."

"Oh." Rodney handed John a wet towel, but John raised his eyebrows at him.

Sighing, Rodney saw that he was about to be punished for his earlier 'revenge'. Carefully, he wiped at the blood on his friend's face.

"Rodney?" Carson suddenly said, eyes still closed.

"Yeah?"

"_You_ okay?"

A stab of guilt over the penlight incident pierced his stomach. "Yeah, Carson," he said. "I'm fine. Just get better, okay?"

"Okay," Carson said, his voice sounding dreamy.

John reached over and shook his arm again. "Wake up, doc."

"Mmm..." he said, before flinching at Rodney's ministrations.

"Sorry," Rodney said, pulling the towel back.

"Painkillers, doc?" said John. "How's your stomach?"

The thought of swallowing anything turned Carson's face quite green.

"Uh oh," said Rodney, taking several steps back.

"Maybe we should give you a shot instead?" said John.

"We?" said Rodney. "What 'we'? _You_ do it!"

"What do you want me to get, doc?" John asked, ignoring the scientist.

Carson mumbled a reply, and John had to ask him twice to repeat it before he found the correct drug. He brought it over to Carson, and held out the syringe and bottle.

"Lad," the doctor said, blinking. "I can't see straight. Can ya fill it yerself?"

John obeyed, thankful for the medical training that all military personnel are taught.

Carson fumbled to pull up his jacket sleeve, but it wouldn't bunch up high enough. Rodney was impatient to see the unprecedented sight of John giving Carson a shot, so he went over and yanked Carson's arm out of the sleeve for him.

John shot a look at him, though Rodney was sure there was a hint of sparkle in the man's eyes. _I knew it!_ Rodney thought. _I bet John's enjoying this more then he's letting on!_

"I guess I should say 'sorry' ahead of time, doc," John said. "I'm sure this'll hurt."

Rodney had to hold back a snort.

Despite the chance to give the doc a taste of his own medicine—literally—John tried to be gentle as he injected the drug. The situation was humorous, he had to admit, but he didn't want to cause anymore suffering for Carson; he knew that the doc only did what's best for them. It certainly wasn't Carson's fault that he and Rodney were his patients so often.

Carson didn't flinch at the poke of the needle. He was too occupied with his throbbing headache.

John pulled out the needle and laid it on the nearby table.

"Thanks, lad," Carson said, eyes still closed.

"What can we do to you _next?_" said Rodney, sticking his friend's arm back in his jacket sleeve. "I mean, uh, what else can we do to _help_?"

Carson didn't answer.

Rodney reached over and nudged him. "Carson? Wake up; no sleeping, isn't that what you always tell us?"

"Bugger off."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "Well, that wasn't very nice! Here we are, trying to help you, and that's what we get for it?"

"I don' need help," the injured doctor mumbled. "Lemme sleep."

"You can't sleep, Carson! Did you forget what you've learned about concussions?" Rodney asked. Realization suddenly dawned on his face. "Ohmygosh, have you lost your memory?"

John frowned, wondering if memory loss could really begin so late after the initial injury.

Carson opened his eyes slightly, looking at Rodney. "Who're you?"

Rodney's jaw dropped and he audibly gasped.

Carson rolled his eyes and then winced from the pain it caused. "Ya daft bugger. Of course I haven't lost my memory! I just wanna sleep. Ya both can go."

Rodney and John exchanged nervous looks.

"Doc," said John, concerned. "Whether your memory is fine or not, you're obviously not thinking clearly or you would realize that sleeping is not a good idea right now."

Carson didn't answer, eyes closed.

"Carsooooon," said Rodney, shaking his arm. "Stop it, will you? You want to put yourself into a coma?"

"Go 'way."

"No!" said Rodney. "You'd better cooperate, unless you want us hovering over you like you do to us!"

Carson smiled inwardly. "I don' want that," he said.

"Then wake up! Where's your brain?"

"Spillin' out me ears," Carson said, with a wince.

Rodney realized that he was talking pretty loud. His expression turned to one of shock when Carson suddenly tried to sit up.

John reached forward and pushed him back down. "What are you doing?!" he asked.

Carson should not have moved; he realized that too late when everything spun around him and his vision grayed. "He's hurt," he gasped.

John looked at the scientist. "Rodney's fine, doc. His wound is bandaged…sorta."

Rodney hid his incorrectly-wrapped arm behind his back.

"Oh good. I'll just go back ta sleep then…"

"Oh no you don't," said Rodney. He walked over and shoved an arm under the doctor, swiftly sitting him upright. "Can't sleep sitting up, now can you!"

"Rodney!" John exclaimed.

Carson almost fell off the bed. His head seemed to explode with fireworks, and he bonelessly slumped against the scientist, who thankfully managed to catch him.

"You idiot!" John shouted, grabbing their limp friend. "Are you out of your mind?! You don't do that to someone who has a _concussion_! If he pukes, I'm aiming him at _you!_"

Rodney stepped back. Spying the bucket on the floor, he kicked it closer to the bed.

"Doc?" said John, nervously.

Carson was completely limp, eyes closed.

John gently laid him down again. "Look what you've done!" he said to Rodney.

Regret was finally evident on Rodney's face. "I—I didn't mean to hurt him..."

"Really? So far, it looks like you're hurting him on purpose!"

Carson slowly became aware of their voices. Breathing heavily, he inwardly begged the pain and nausea to subside. He knew that the only reason he hadn't made use of the 'puke bucket' was because his stomach was empty. With the dangerous situation that they'd only _just_ gotten out of, he hadn't had time to eat very recently.

When he was finally able to speak, Carson mumbled, "That's it. I'm outta here before ya two kill me..." He slid his legs over so they hung off the bed, and tried to slide off.

John was so busy staring Rodney down that he didn't realize what Carson was doing. Rodney did, but he was still far from the bed thanks to the 'puke' threat. His face showed surprise as he looked past John, and the Major turned around just in time to grab the doctor's arm as he slid off the bed.

Carson's legs weren't interested in providing their usual function, so he quickly found himself sitting on the floor.

John went down with him, grabbing his arms to keep him upright. Rodney knelt beside him.

Carson spoke before either of them had a chance. "I wanna go ta my quarters."

"You can't do that, Carson," said John. "You need to be looked at by one of your doctors when they get back here."

"Don't care," Carson said, eyes shut tight against his pounding skull. "Wanna go."

Rodney shook his head, unable to accept that his friend—a _doctor_—could possibly be this uncooperative towards legitimate medical facts. He was convinced that his head injury was more severe than they thought. "That girl knocked him for a loop!" he said to John. "What are we going to do?"

John shook his head. "Let's take him to his quarters."

"What?!"

"It'll probably be a while before people start getting back here," John said. "If he's gonna drive us crazy, we might as well give him what he wants for now, and bring him back when a doctor can look at him. You know his quarters aren't far from here."

Rodney looked unsure, but shrugged with one shoulder. "Okay."

"All right, doc," said John. "You're getting your wish."

As they helped him up and Rodney pulled one of Carson's arms over his shoulder, he said, "You better not puke on us along the way!"

Carson knew that his stomach was empty, but Rodney didn't, so he answered, "I'll try not ta."

Rodney grimaced.

They made it to Carson's quarters without incident, and John opened the door. Entering, they brought him over to the bed.

"Pull down the covers," John told Rodney.

The scientist carefully let go of Carson and obeyed.

They laid him down, and took off his shoes.

"What about his jacket?" Rodney asked. "Do you think he's cold? Can concussions cause shock? We should've brought a blood-pressure cuff with us!"

Despite the 'Rodney Rants', John knew that his questions had merit. "Do you want your jacket left on, Carson?"

The doctor didn't answer.

"Ohno," said Rodney. "We knocked him out again!"

"What do you mean, 'we'?" said John. "_You_ knocked him out when you stupidly sat him up, _I_ had nothing to do with that!"

"Off," Carson suddenly mumbled.

"What was that?" Rodney asked.

"Jacket. Off."

"Oh," said the scientist, relieved. "He's not cold! That's a good sign, right?"

John shrugged, before they reached down and removed Carson's jacket.

The doctor unexpectedly shivered when they finished. "Cold."

"What?!" said Rodney. "But you said—"

"Drop it, Rodney," John said.

They put the jacket back on the injured doctor, and Rodney zipped it, before pulling the covers up. "Now what?" he asked John.

John shook his head. "I guess we just sit here and keep him awake."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Rodney said. "Sleeping Beauty won't listen to us."

"Hey doc," said John. "Tell us a story."

"Story?" Carson mumbled.

"Yeah. Talk to us. You have six brothers and sisters, right? Most of them older than you? Tell us the funny things they did to 'Little Carson'. Did you have a nickname?"

"Don' wanna talk. Head hurts."

"We don't know how else to keep you awake!" Rodney exclaimed.

Carson was silent for a few seconds, before saying, "Carsie. They called me 'Carsie'."

Rodney's sudden grin nearly split his face. "Carsie? HA!"

"They used ta hold my wrists and spin me around in circles like I was flyin'," he continued. "Then put me down and watch me walk inta things and fall over."

John blinked. "That wasn't very nice."

"Poor Little Carsie," Rodney snorted.

"Had a big dog when I was four," Carson said, eyes still closed, his voice still mumbly. "They tried ta make me a saddle so I could ride 'em."

Rodney's eyebrows shot up. "Did it work?"

"Aye," Carson said, smiling at the memory. "Was fun."

"I can imagine," said John, pulling up a chair.

"Until the day he ran inta the road."

Rodney was in the process of sitting down on the bed, but Carson's words made him nearly fall off. "Road?! With you on his back?!"

"Aye."

John and Rodney looked at each other, afraid to ask the outcome.

"Good thing the man on his bicycle stopped," Carson said.

"Bicycle?!" said Rodney. "No cars were coming?"

"Cars?" Carson echoed, eyes still closed. "Oh, we never got cars where we lived. Too far inta the country."

Both men unconsciously sighed with relief.

The next hour passed in a similar fashion, with Carson intermittently telling stories and falling asleep, prompting the others to bully him awake.

John had radioed Elizabeth, asking her to let them know when a doctor was back on Atlantis, and finally, she did.

"Great," John said to her. "Thanks." He looked at Rodney, with relief. "Back to the infirmary you go, doc."

"Don' wanna."

"But you have to."

"No."

"Yes!" said Rodney. "If _we're_ never allowed to refuse, than neither are _you!_" He yanked the covers back, and helped pull him out of the bed.

Carson made a pained sound, though his eyes had finally opened. "My shoes."

"You don't need them," Rodney said. "You're just going from one bed to another."

"The hall is slippery," John said. "He can't afford to fall. Put his sneakers on him, Rodney."

The scientist sat Carson back down on the bed, shooting a look at John as if to say, 'why don't _you_ do it'?!

John knelt and picked up one sneaker, while tossing the other at Rodney's chest.

Rodney glared at him, but caught it. "Okie dokie," he mocked. "Let's tie Little Carsie's shoes real tight so he doesn't trip on the laces!"

Neither man saw the laugh that Carson was trying to hide.

Finally, they got Carson to the infirmary, where Dr. Biro was waiting, having been told by Elizabeth what to expect.

"What happened to him?!" she asked, concerned.

"He was hit in the face with a gun," Teyla's voice suddenly said, as she entered the room. "I witnessed it, so I thought it wise to be here to answer questions."

"Thank you," Biro said to her, motioning the men to bring Carson to a bed.

"A gun?!" Rodney said. "Ow." _No wonder he's loopy!_

They laid him down, and Biro took out her own penlight.

Rodney put a hand over his mouth to hide a grin.

"We he knocked unconscious?" Biro asked, shining the light, which made Carson groan and turn his head.

Teyla nodded. "For about ten minutes."

"He hit his head on the floor," Rodney supplied. "He has an egg on the back."

Biro frowned at that. Double head trauma wasn't ever good.

"He's been acting all...dumb!" Rodney continued. "Not cooperating, falling asleep even though we keep telling him not to..."

Biro clicked off the light. "Well, he definitely has a concussion. Why wasn't he here when I arrived?"

"He refused to stay," said John. "Made us take him to his quarters."

Carson mumbled something, and Biro bent closer to hear him. She stood up, looking confused. "He's not making much sense. I should do a scan. The two of you should go see Dr. Weir; she asked me to send you to her when you had a chance. Come back here when you're done though, I might have more questions for you."

"Okay," said Rodney. They threw concerned looks at Carson as they left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When John and Rodney returned to the infirmary, they found Carson with a bandage around his head, lying on the bed wearing scrubs. Teyla sat in a chair beside him, a hand on one of his arms.

"Oh good, you're back," Biro said. "He's all yours."

Rodney and John looked at each other. "Huh?" said Rodney.

"Take him back to his quarters," she said. "He'll never get the rest he needs in here."

"How can he not?" said Rodney. "This is the infirmary!"

Biro put a hand on her hip. "Rodney, if you were in your lab and something important was going on, would you just sit there and keep out of it while Radek did all the work?"

"No way," said Rodney.

"So how is _Doctor_ Beckett supposed to lie here and rest with patients coming in daily that he'll be itching to treat?"

John looked at Rodney, with a shrug. "She's right."

Rodney couldn't counter their statements, so they walked over to the bed.

"Carson," said Teyla, patting his arm. "Time to go back to your quarters."

The injured doctor blinked his eyes. "Oh good. Thanks, lass."

"How bad is his concussion?" John asked.

Biro sighed. "Not too bad. He was lucky."

"Would've been luckier if he hadn't whacked his head on the floor," Rodney said, as they got Carson up and helped him towards the door.

"Make sure you wake him frequently through the night," Biro called. "Every hour at first. Ask him his name and if he remembers what happened. If he handles it well, you can do it every _two_ hours."

John and Rodney stopped dead.

"You're making us his nursemaids?!" Rodney exclaimed.

Biro and Teyla gave him stern looks. "Has he not done the same for you? _Many_ times?" said the Athosian.

Rodney sputtered, but had no answer. Wordlessly, they headed towards the door.

After they were gone, Biro and Teyla could no longer hold in their laughter.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John and Rodney once again brought Carson to his quarters and put him to bed. He dropped right off to sleep, to their relief.

"I can't believe that we're stuck here awake all night," said Rodney.

John looked at him as he stood at the balcony door. "Well sure, it's not something we would've planned, but don't you care that Carson needs _our_ help for a change? Geez, if it was _you_ lying there, nothing could keep him away."

Rodney turned, his eyebrows raised. "Of course I care! It's just..." He threw both arms up without thinking, making himself wince.

John frowned. "Why don't go you back to the infirmary and have that bandaged the _right _way."

Rodney looked at the crazy bandage around his arm. "I'd rather Carson do it."

John pointedly looked at the sleeping form in the bed. "Well, since he's currently _unable_..."

"It can wait."

John shook his head. "Sure, if you want to risk gangrene and amputation..."

Rodney stared. "Amputation? You think my wound is that bad?"

John shrugged. "Is it worth the risk?"

Without another word, Rodney ran out the door.

John rolled his eyes, shaking his head. A sudden chuckle sounded, and he turned to look at Carson again.

A very awake Carson.

"Hey doc," said John. "Need anything?"

"Aye," Carson said, smiling. "A picture of Rodney's face just before he ran out."

John echoed the chuckle. "He's too easy to tease."

"He is," Carson agreed.

John sat on the side of the bed. "How's your head?"

"No' very happy."

"Boy do I know how _that_ feels," John said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Rodney walked into the infirmary, he heard Dr. Biro and Teyla still talking.

"I hope they learn a lesson out of this!" the doctor was saying.

"Who?" Rodney asked.

Biro, startled, turned around and nearly fell over. "Rodney!"

The scientist blinked, puzzled at her reaction.

Teyla looked from one to the other. "Your mice, doctor…"

Biro suddenly nodded. "Yes! The mice in my lab. They...uh...keep escaping. I saw them get out, and realized that it was a team effort, so I separated them. I hope they learn their lesson!"

Rodney blinked again. "Okaaaaay." He held up his arm. "Can you take care of this for me?"

"Sure," she said. Leading him towards one of the beds, she caught Teyla's eye and shot her a look of relief.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson had fallen asleep, and John was wandering around, looking at the various knick-knacks and things placed around the room. He spotted a picture that showed an older woman surrounded by seven younger men and ladies. Carson was right beside her, wearing a big smile with both arms wrapped around her. She was laughing, and everyone else in the picture was smiling too, looking very happy.

They were obviously Carson's mother and siblings.

John jumped at the chance to see the family that the doctor was always talking about. He picked up the picture; seeing that Carson's mother was still a good-looking woman, even at her age, and it was obvious that she'd passed down her looks to her children. All of Carson's brothers and sisters looked like nice people. John knew that she was a good mother; Carson certainly said it often enough.

"Hey Sheppard."

John was startled, and nearly dropped the picture. He reached up to activate his earpiece. "What?!" he hissed, soft enough to not wake Carson, he hoped.

"I'm bringing my laptop back with me," Rodney said. "Do you need anything?"

"Uh." John's stomach suddenly growled and he looked at his watch. "How about supper?"

"Oh great, first I gotta be a nursemaid, and now room service." He sighed. "Should I bring something for Carson too? You think he can eat?"

"I don't know," John answered. "Try to bring him something that's easy on the stomach. Nothing heavy or spicy."

"Okay."

Switching off his earpiece, John walked over to the balcony, watching the sunset. He thought back to the traumatic events of the day, nearly unable to comprehend that it was over. So many people could've lost their lives...

The door opening brought John out of his musings, and he turned, seeing Rodney trying to juggle two stacked trays and his laptop. John took the trays from him, and brought them to the nearby table, taking a cover off the one on top. "Barbeque chicken! Nice. What did you bring for Carson?"

Rodney took off the other cover. On it sat a bowl of soup, and something that had John look at Rodney in shock.

"What?" Rodney asked.

"Blue jello," John said. "Your favorite."

Rodney shrugged.

"That's the only bowl _here_," John continued.

"Yeah, well," said Rodney, waving a hand in dismissal. "It's all they had left."

"You're giving up your favorite jello for him?" said John, stunned.

Rodney scoffed. "I do something nice and it's like the world ended or something! I'm not a jerk _all_ the time, you know."

John smiled and took the soup, patting the scientist on the arm as he walked to the bed. He sat the bowl on the night-table and looked at his watch. It was almost time for the doctor's hourly waking anyway, and he didn't want the soup to get cold. "Carson?" he said, before inwardly wincing. How dumb is it to ask someone their name after you just said it? "Doc," he said, instead. "Wakey wakey."

Carson groaned softly, moving his head slightly.

"Wake up, doc," John said. "We have some soup here, if you can eat it."

Carson blearily opened his eyes.

"What's your name?" John asked.

Carson blinked for a minute. "Dr. Leonard McCoy."

John's eyebrows shot up.

"_What_ did he say?!" said Rodney, coming closer.

"_What_ did you say?!" asked John.

Carson said nothing more, eyes once again closed.

"Geez!" said Rodney. "Do you think we've made too many jokes about him being like Dr. McCoy? This isn't Star Trek, Carson!" He suddenly made an amused face. "This is Star _Gate!_ Ha! Get it? You know, the Stargate? Oh that'd be the _perfect_ name if we were a sci-fi TV show...!"

"Shut up, Rodney!" said John. "Doc, tell me your _real_ name!"

Carson opened his eyes again, shooting John a confused look, as if not understanding his anxiety. "Carson Beckett. What's wrong, lad?"

"What's wrong?!" Rodney exclaimed. "You just told us that your name is Leonard McCoy!"

Carson chuckled. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't."

"Yes yes yes you did!"

Carson groaned and put a hand on his head.

"Shhh!" John said to Rodney. "Can you eat this soup, doc?"

"I'll try," Carson answered, sounding like a little boy.

Rodney helped him sit up, and John handed him the bowl.

Carson picked up the spoon.

"Hey, wait!" said Rodney. "We didn't bring the puke bucket with us!"

As if he didn't hear him, Carson slurped a mouthful of noodles and chicken. His expression quickly turned to one of distress.

"Oh crap!" Rodney shouted, backing up and looking for something to use.

John looked around too, not spotting anything.

Carson, meanwhile, picked up the spoon and ate some more.

"Are you nuts?!" Rodney said, when he saw. "It's obviously all gonna come right back up!"

"Ummm," said Carson, still eating. "Tastes good."

"Not for long," Rodney said.

The doctor ate all the soup and put the bowl back on the night-table. He then shuffled back down flat, and pulled the covers to his chin.

John and Rodney stood there, confused.

"You okay, doc?" John asked.

Carson mumbled.

"Soup settling okay?"

Another affirmative mumble.

"Uh...good."

"Thank God," said Rodney, relieved. His expression quickly changed, though. "Just because it's settled at the moment doesn't mean it's gonna stay in there!" With that, he ran out the door.

John watched him go, wondering if everyone with the prefix 'Dr' had suddenly lost their minds.

Approximately 1 1/2 minutes later, Rodney came back with the 'puke bucket'.

All night, John and Rodney fulfilled their new 'job' of waking Carson up to ensure that he didn't lose consciousness again. The doctor didn't cooperate very well most of the time, telling them to 'bugger off'. When he asked them to 'beam me up', Rodney nearly had a heart attack.

At 3am, to their surprise, Carson declared himself hungry and asked Rodney to pick him up some Kentucky Fried Chicken.

"Uh," Rodney said. "I have blue jello."

Carson was as shocked at the kind gesture as John had been. "Yer givin' me yer blue jello?"

Rodney nodded and handed it to him.

Carson stared at the bowl on his lap, before looking back at Rodney again. To the scientist's shock and embarrassment, the doctor's lip actually trembled. "Thank you, Rodney. This means a lot ta me!"

"Oh, geez!" Rodney said. "Can head injuries make a person ridiculously emotional?"

Carson's answer was a sniff, which made him wince from the earlier injury to his poor nose. He picked up the spoon and eagerly ate the jello, before going back to sleep.

Rodney eventually fell asleep too, but John kept up his duty. About an hour before dawn, when it was obvious that Carson was all right, he let himself doze off, intending to let the doc sleep uninterrupted for a couple hours.

When Rodney woke, it was daylight. He jumped, startled, seeing John asleep. He thought for a minute that they'd both fallen asleep and neglected Carson for who-knew how long, and he jumped out of his chair. "Carson!" he shouted. "Wake up!"

Carson's face was turned away from him, and he didn't move.

Rodney ran around to the other side of the bed, sitting on it and grabbing his friend's arms. "Carson! Wake up right now!"

The doctor remained motionless.

"SHEPPARD!"

The shouting had already woken John, who was now standing beside Rodney. "What happened?!"

"He won't wake up!" Rodney said, panicking. "We fell asleep and left him alone!"

John looked at his watch. "It's only been a couple hours! Biro said that was okay!"

"Then why won't he wake up?!" Rodney shouted, shaking the poor doctor now. He finally let go, and sat Carson up, pulling him to the side of the bed so they could take him back to the infirmary.

"Whatcha doin', Rodney?" he suddenly heard, right in his ear.

"ACK!" Rodney exclaimed, jumping away.

Carson fell back with a plop "Oww."

"You're awake?!" Rodney exclaimed.

"Of course I am, ya daft bugger! Ya were yellin' loud enough!" He rolled onto his side, rubbing the lump on the back of his head. "Ow."

Rodney was a very frazzled man, after the night they'd just had. He looked to John, about ready to pull his hair out. "Wh—wh—why wouldn't you wake up?" he stuttered.

"Obviously, I was tired." Carson pulled the covers up again. "G'night, Rodney."

The scientist plopped back into his chair. A few minutes later, when Carson appeared to be asleep, he said, "And I thought _I_ was a bad patient."

John chuckled. "Certainly shows us what _he_ goes through whenever _we're_ in the infirmary."

Rodney mumbled a reply that sounded like, "Shut up." He then stood and went in the bathroom.

John looked at Carson, seeing the slight lift to the corners of his mouth. He sat on the bed, and leaned towards his ear. "I know what you're up to," he whispered.

Carson opened his eyes, having not been asleep. "What?"

John nodded, with a smile. "Payback! Don't worry, it worked; after _this_ experience, Rodney and I are gonna be _much_ more-cooperative patients in the future."

Carson dramatically sighed with relief. "Thank God!" He looked towards the bathroom, where Rodney was still inside.

John smirked. "Don't worry, doc, your secret's safe with me! I'll take _any_ chance to annoy Rodney!"

Carson smiled, then quickly closed his eyes before the scientist returned.

Rodney, genius that he was, the man with the highest IQ on Atlantis...never found out.

THE END  
LOL!


	10. Midnight Snack

Midnight Snack  
A Stargate: Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA characters

Tag for the first season episode, 'Suspicion'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you serious?! HAHAHAHAHA!"

The sound of laughter had John Sheppard come to a stop at the door to the mess hall. _That sounds like Rodney…I've never heard him laugh like that before!_

Wondering what on earth had so entertained the scientist, John opened the door and walked in.

"It's true. He named it Steve! I was right there!" That voice belonged to Ford. More laughter answered his statement.

Rolling his eyes, John spotted the Lieutenant sitting at a table with Rodney and Carson in the otherwise deserted mess hall. They appeared to be eating a late-night snack of…milk and cookies? "Mind if I crash the party?" he said.

Rodney jumped, startled. He turned around and pointed a finger at the Major as if accusing him of a crime. "Just the man I wanted to see! I can't believe you named the wraith! Where'd you think up a name like 'Steve'?" he asked.

"You don't like that name?" Carson asked, dipping a cookie in his milk. "One o' me brother's is named 'Steve'."

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the name," Rodney said, dipping his own and pulling it out, frowning when it broke and fell back in. "Just…it doesn't seem the kind of name that comes first to the mind."

"An' what's the first name that comes ta _yer_ mind?" Carson asked.

"Bob."

Ford started choking on his snack. "Bob the wraith! Bob the wraith!" He laughed. "Make sure you give the next one _that_ name, Major!"

John rolled his eyes as he sat.

"Let's hope there _isn't_ a next one," said Rodney.

"Aye," Carson agreed.

John said nothing, reaching over and stealing one of Ford's cookies.

"Hey!" Ford said. "You know, Major, for someone who constantly tries to prevent _us_ from naming things…"

"True! Good one, Lieutenant!" Rodney said, dropping yet another broken cookie in his milk.

Carson chuckled, dipping another of his own.

Rodney watched him as he took it out perfectly whole and ate it. "How do you _do_ that?" he asked.

Carson frowned. "Huh?"

"Mine always break and fall in!" the scientist whined.

"Ya keep it in there too long."

"No I don't; watch."

Everyone watched as Rodney demonstrated. Indeed, his cookie broke and fell in sooner than expected.

John couldn't help but smile. Their laughter was contagious.

"Yer awfully quiet, Major," Carson suddenly said. "Is somethin' wrong?"

John hesitated. He'd not been in a good mood after the situation with the wraith, but being here with such lively people had surprisingly helped. He realized that he was beginning to think of them as friends. "No," he said. "Nothing's wrong." He stole Rodney's last cookie, with a smile.

Rodney had slowly been pulling a still-whole cookie out of his milk, when he caught John's antics out of the corner of his eye. "Hey!" he exclaimed.

And his cookie broke, falling into his glass.

John easily joined into the laughter this time. The look on Rodney's face as he stared dejectedly at his milk was priceless. Patting him on the shoulder, John reached over and stole one of Ford's cookies, handing it to the scientist as he filed the name 'Bob' into his memory for their next captive wraith.

THE END

LOL hope you all liked this snippet! For everyone wondering where a new chapter of 'For the Children' is, don't worry, it's coming! ;)


	11. The Walking Wounded

The Walking Wounded  
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA characters.

Tag to the episode, 'Condemned'.

Just a little tidbit to tide you over until my next chapter to 'For the Children' comes out! (I wonder if I should change the name of that story...any opinions?)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are we done, doc?"

"Aye," said Carson.

Relieved, John jumped off the infirmary bed, but stumbled with his right leg, automatically rubbing his knee.

Carson watched, frowning. "What's this, now? What've ya done ta yer leg, and why didn' ya tell me?"

John shook his head. "It's nothing, I just whacked it. Wasn't worth mentioning," he said, walking towards the door.

"Oh no ya don't," said Carson, striding over and grabbing his arm. "I never know when yer tellin' me the truth, lad, so yer gonna show me."

With a sigh, John had no choice but to submit, sitting on the bed again. He pulled up his pant leg to display the damage, not even knowing himself how it looked.

All he knew was that it _hurt_.

Boy did he feel dumb. Watching Teyla break that stick over her knee with such ease, he never expected to hurt himself—and not even break the stick!—when _he_ tried it.

Exposing his knee, he heard Carson tsk. There was an ugly purple bruise covering it.

The doctor poked it, making sure the kneecap was still in its proper place. There was a little bit of swelling, so he said, "I'll get ya an ice pack. What did ya whack it on? Strange shape."

Indeed it was. Long and thin, horizontally covering his knee.

_More like, what did I whack it __with_. "Uh," he answered. "Dunno."

Carson came back and studied it again. "Humm, looks like someone smacked it with a stick," he said, placing the ice pack over the bruise.

John said nothing; through he frowned and looked at the doc. _Does he somehow know? Nah, that'd be impossible._

Carson went about his business, putting things away. "Is there anythin' else that ya haven' told me?"

"No, nothing else."

"Humm," Carson said, as if not sure whether or not to believe him.

A short time later, John removed the pack, which was starting to melt. "You can have this back now, I'm good."

Carson came back over and looked at his knee. "All right. If I were ya, I wouldn't go runnin' tomorrow."

John frowned as he got off the bed and started towards the door. He _liked_ running.

"Next time, try breakin' a thinner stick," Carson said, just as John reached the door.

The Colonel stopped dead, stunned. "What?!"

"Yer not the _only_ one ta get a bruised knee today." Carson said, with a smirk. "The only difference is that Teyla succeeded in breaking _her_ stick!"

John turned and looked at him, mouth open in shock. A second later though, his pride returned, and he walked—or rather, limped—forward, pointing his finger. "Not a word!"

Carson's smile disappeared and he became serious, raising both arms in submission. "Wouldn't dream of it, Colonel. Doctor-patient confidentiality, an' all that."

"Right," said John. He stared at him for a few seconds more as an intimidation factor, before turning and walking towards the door. As it opened, he glanced at Carson over his shoulder as he left.

When the doors closed behind him, Carson couldn't help but laugh. _What I would give ta have seen that! _he thought.

THE END


	12. Night Before Christmas: Atlantis Style!

**'Twas the Night Before Christmas—Atlantis Style!**  
By Deana Lisi

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from SGA or the original 'Night Before Christmas' poem! The 'rum' thing was inspired from 'Pirates of the Caribbean', which I also don't own.

LOL hope you all enjoy this silly thing! Merry Christmas! ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Atlantis,  
most of the scientists were hiding; all pantless.  
Spiked egg nog had made the cleaners all drunk,  
so into the bleach, much clothing got dunked.

Carson was glad; beige clothes he disliked,  
so now some _gray_ uniforms; get them he might!  
Also drunk was he, because he didn't know,  
that Rodney had poured lots of rum in the bowl!

They laughed as they stumbled their way down the hall,  
while others all passed them, having a ball.  
"Rodney," he slurred, as he looked at his friend,  
"Sheppard's room is just around the next bend."

"Do you think he's there? I didn't see him before,"  
asked Rodney, as they made their way to the door.  
"Dunno," Carson said. "But it would no' be right,  
fer him ta no' get some…it really tastes nice!"

He took one more sip of the rum-nog he held,  
tried tapping the door, but got _his_ bell-rung instead.  
For Rodney had oddly tripped over himself,  
and knocked Carson down, where he fell with a yelp.

Rodney just watched him, before he then laughed,  
Carson blinked with a frown, thinking him daft.  
"I've fallen," he mumbled. "And I can't get up!"  
Rodney choked on his laughter, and then dropped his cup.

It splashed on the doctor, who grumbled and tried,  
to get himself up, but his brain was now fried.  
For much too long now, so much rum they had drank,  
he couldn't think clearly, and now his head ached.

Sounds could be heard, and then somebody came  
around the next corner, but he looked quite lame.  
Sheppard was limping, also holding a cup,  
and he looked at his friends, before saying, 'Sup!'

Rodney, still laughing, pointed at Carson,  
who still lay on the floor, probably planning some arson.  
"I think he needs help," to John Rodney told.  
"Otherwise he'll lie there until he gets old!"

Sheppard then blinked, and reached down to help,  
but somehow he missed, falling down with a yelp.  
"Not again," he whined. "I just did this before  
I came 'round the bend and found you at my door."

Carson mumbled back, but who knows what he said,  
for John was now laying on top of his head.  
"Get off me, ya daftie!" they finally heard,  
he then pushed John off, and chucked them the bird.

At least, that's what they thought, until they then saw,  
it was the wrong finger, and seemed to be sore.  
"Ya broke m' wee pinkie!" Carson complained,  
holding his finger up, as if it was plain.

"Don't look broken to me," Rodney supplied,  
as his friend's finger he critically eyed.  
"Sorry!" said John, looking contrite,  
"Besides your 'wee pinkie', are you all right?"

He helped his friend up, who played with his finger,  
saw it was just fine, and chose not to linger.  
"Let's go get more 'nog," Carson said to his friends,  
"Okay," said John. "But that really depends  
on if there's more left, and who is still there,  
for who the one left with it was Dr. Weir!"

"She's drinking my rum?!" Rodney yelled out,  
his face changing into a silly young pout.  
"She'll throw it away, once she finds out it's there,  
and then…why I'll pull out the rest of my hair!"

Carson and John then walked down the hall,  
(though in their drunk state, they probably should crawl.)  
Rodney then ran his best to catch up,  
but almost tripped over his earlier dropped cup.

They ran to the mess hall, and there they did find,  
that they should not have left the nog bowl behind.  
It was empty now, of the rum and the nog,  
and all three of their brains felt quite filled with fog.

Elizabeth stood there, and studied the three,  
wondering which of them the perp had to be.  
"Why is the rum gone?!" Rodney then asked,  
"I knew that I should have kept my own flask!"

Liz shook her head. "You should be ashamed!  
For everyone's hangovers _you_ will be blamed!"  
Carson and John then frowned at their friend,  
for, thanks to him, they'll be stuck in their beds.

"That wasn't nice," Carson practically slurred,  
he then blinked his eyes, his vision quite blurred.  
"You know it is late," Elizabeth said.  
"All three of you now should go on straight to bed."

Carson put down the cup he still held,  
his consciousness wanting right then to rebel.  
He backed into Rodney, who didn't expect,  
the rum to have on Carson such an effect.

He knew that the doctor did not often drink,  
no wonder his brain was now close to the brink!  
Rodney grabbed Carson's arm, not knowing how  
they didn't both fall, but he then made a vow.

He shouldn't have done this to his two best friends,  
and he solemnly swore that he would make amends.  
He and John both then helped their poor friend,  
out of the mess hall, and straight to his bed.

John sat in a chair, and Rod on the floor,  
their strength they had used; they now had no more.  
And that's how Liz found them, when she came to check,  
for she knew that all three of them were quite a wreck.

Carson slept in his bed, Rodney on the floor,  
John in a chair, with a very soft snore.  
She smiled as she watched, and started to hum,  
"Merry Christmas to all, but for you, no more rum!"

THE END  
Ha! Was that as funny as I thought it was? ;)


	13. Limericks

**Atlantis Limericks**  
By Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA characters. Doh!  
Happy New Year, everyone! I wrote these limericks last year, but kept forgetting to post them, lol! Oh, by the way, today is Paul McGillion's 39th and Joe Flanigan's 41st birthday! Isn't that cool that they were born on the same day? ;)

xxxxxxxxxx

There one was a Science doc,  
Smartest man ever lived on this rock.  
His name is McKay,  
And he's been yelling all day,  
'Cause he's missing an orange sock!

xxxxxxxxxx

There once was a Scottish guy.  
I want him so much I could cry.  
His name is Carson,  
And I'd like to kiss him,  
After which, I'm sure I would fly! ;)

xxxxxxxxxx

There once was a Colonel named John.  
Who writers love to cause harm.  
I'll admit that he's cute,  
And he is not a brute,  
'Specially when he uses his charm!

xxxxxxxxxx

There once was a warrior man,  
Of the Wraith he is not a fan.  
Ronon's his name,  
And he quickly gained fame,  
When all the girls saw his hot tan!

xxxxxxxxxx

There once was a lady named Weir.  
For Atlantis, how she does care.  
She headed the mission,  
But Kavanagh kept dissin',  
So she threw him out on his rear!

xxxxxxxxxx

Teyla is part of the team.  
Against her, you'd better not scheme.  
When she takes out her sticks,  
Badguys better run quick,  
'Cause she's much stronger than she seems!

xxxxxxxxxx

Zelenka has messy hair.  
Every day, the people all stare.  
It looks such a mess,  
In a state of duress,  
But tell him, no one will dare!

xxxxxxxxxx

THE END  
How'd you like those? LOL! ;)


	14. Astounded: Kindred 1 Tag

Astounded  
A Stargate Atlantis snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA character.

Tag for 'Kindred, Part 1'. This is what I say should've happened between the end of Kindred 1 and the beginning of Kindred 2.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rodney stared in shock at the figure that stood before them. His mouth went dry and he felt faint. The gun nearly fell from suddenly nerveless figures.

Carson…Carson Beckett, the friend who'd _died _the year before; all because Rodney hadn't wanted to go fishing...looked from one of them to the other, a look of confusion on his face.

John and Ronon were astounded, as speechless as Rodney. Major Lorne stepped up beside John, and audibly gasped.

"What's this, then?" said Carson, puzzled at their reactions. "Are we leavin' or not?"

Rodney's mouth opened and closed again, at least three times. "C-Carson? Carson?" he said, shakily.

Carson walked towards them, realizing that they obviously hadn't expected to find him in this cell. "Aye! Let's go!"

Rodney barely remembered moving, yet suddenly the P-90 was slung over his shoulder and he had walked forward, grabbing his friend in probably the biggest hug he'd ever given anyone in his life.

Carson returned it, overjoyed to be reunited with his friends at last.

Rodney felt tears prick his eyes, and made no move to dry them. "God…oh please, God…don't let this be a dream…" he whispered.

Carson opened his mouth to speak, but a hand grabbed his arm.

"Come on," said John, having finally found his voice. "We have to go."

Carson tried to pull away, but Rodney was holding on too tightly. He felt the Colonel smack Rodney's shoulder, and the scientist let go, but he held onto Carson's arm as they walked out of the cell and started running.

The shocked and confused emotions of the team members was practically tangible, and Carson couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Rodney suddenly pulled him to a stop, and Carson watched as Colonel Sheppard tapped his earpiece.

"Daedalus, beam us up."

A second later, Carson was no longer seeing the hallway that lead towards the cell that he'd occupied for almost two years. The bridge of the Daedalus came into view, and Carson saw the same look of shock cross Colonel Caldwell's face.

"Sheppard?" the Colonel said.

John shook his head. He seemed at a loss for words for a second. "Take us back to Atlantis."

At those words, Carson looked at Rodney and smiled.

The expression of shock was still on Rodney's face, but he smiled back without hesitation.

THE END  
(sniff!)


	15. Vigil: Kindred 2 Tag

**Vigil**

A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi

Tag to 'Kindred Part 2'

Special thanks to Trishkafibble, who supplied this story's title in her review when I couldn't think one up myself! ;)

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Rodney stared at Carson—frozen in stasis—his mind a total blank. He couldn't think...for the first time that he could remember.

His mind was in a state of turmoil.

He didn't hear when people started leaving the room. He didn't feel the hand that rested on his shoulder for a minute before Colonel Sheppard reluctantly left, sensing that Rodney would want to be alone for a while.

Rodney had no idea how long he stood in front of the stasis chamber, staring at his best friend.

Or, rather, the _clone_ of his best friend.

It was so…so sci-fi. This clone was so like Carson…he _was_ Carson, in every way.

But he wasn't Carson.

The real Carson was dead.

Rodney closed his eyes against a sudden well of tears. _Carson is dead…but we have another Carson. A clone is better than no Carson at all!_

Rodney suddenly wondered what the real Carson was thinking at that moment, wherever he was in the afterlife. He knew that Carson would be happy for him; glad for all of them to have this chance_If__ we can get his clone out of stasis, that is…_

With a sigh, Rodney reopened his eyes, looking once more at the clone of his friend.

It seemed like Carson was staring right back…his eyes still open in his freaky state of hibernation.

With a sudden shudder, Rodney turned around, rubbing his arms as if he was cold. _How am I supposed to sleep, walk around, carry on life, knowing that Carson's clone is in this pod! And he might never come out! Were these past couple days all that we had? Are we going to fail in finding the cure?_

_What if the pod __itself__ failed?_

Rodney's heart skipped a beat and he turned around, placing his palm on the glass. "Nononono," he said, nervously. "There's gotta be a way to prevent that…gotta be a way…don't worry, Carson, that can't happen…!" He turned and went back over to the control panel, quickly bringing up the pod's programming file.

Mumbling to himself, he entered a string of code and saved it. Looking at Carson and back to the console again to make sure it didn't complain of an error, he walked back to the pod and touched the glass again.

"Um, I did it; you don't have to worry now. If the pod failed for some reason…_if_…then I set it to, uh, defrost you. Yeah. You'd just wake up and we can put you in another pod. Well, you might not _really_ wake up…especially since it would only take a few minutes to move you…but you'd be, um, no longer in stasis for that length of time."

Of course, Carson gave no reaction to his rambling.

With another sigh, Rodney turned around and slid down the glass to sit on the floor. Looking up at Carson, he felt like Captain Kirk in Star Trek 2, when Spock was inside the anti-matter chamber…dying.

_Nononono._

"You're not gonna die, Carson, you know that, right?" Rodney said. "You're just sleeping until we find your cure. When we do, and wake you up, it'll seem like only moments passed!"

Looking down at the floor, Rodney sighed. "Lucky you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, scientists and doctors filled the conference room, to discuss how to go about developing the necessary drug to save Carson's life.

Rodney didn't show up. John had a feeling where he was, and so did Ronon.

They were right.

Entering the room that held Carson's stasis pod, they found exactly what they expected.

Rodney was sitting on the floor, fast asleep against the glass.

John and Ronon looked at each other, torn. They didn't want to wake him...they'd both slept badly the night before, too, after all the recent crazy events...but the sooner they began working on Carson's dilemma, the sooner they could get him out of the pod.

Sheppard walked over to their friend, and knelt. "Rodney?"

All they heard in response was a mumble.

"Rodney," said John, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."

The scientist's eyes popped open, and he looked around wildly. Seeing the two men in front of him, Rodney looked up at the pod, as if unsure of what he'd find.

Carson still stood motionless, in a state of artificial hibernation.

Rodney sighed and looked back down at the floor.

John frowned, realizing that the scientist must've had some kind of dream. Whether it was a good one, or a bad one, he couldn't tell. "Come on, Rodney. You're late for the meeting."

Rodney perked up again. "Late?" He pushed himself to his feet, groaning at the stiffness caused by his unhealthy sleeping position.

John turned to go, but he and Ronon both couldn't resist hesitating a minute to look at Carson's clone before they left.

Rodney hung back, waiting until they were out the door before he turned to the pod again. "Um, I don't know if you can actually hear me, like people in comas can, but I just want to tell you not to worry, you won't be in there long," he said.

Feeling a bit more optimistic…didn't things always look better in the morning?…Rodney smiled at him and left the room.

Every day after that, Rodney returned and talked to his friend through the pod. On the day that they finally brought Carson out of stasis and administered the cure, the first thing that Carson said to him was…

"Aye, Rodney, I could hear ya."

THE END


End file.
